Chosen
by Abstract Wonder
Summary: Lord Nightshade ponders the enigma that is Kaylin.
1. First Impressions

**Chapter Title**: First Impressions

**Summary**: He notices that when she runs through the halls, she does not run _away_ from him, but rather _toward_ Severn. There is a difference, and it is not a pleasant one.

**Notes:** I love the Chronicles of Elantra, and everyone in the series. Even Mallory. Oh, and the best reviewer gets the next chapter and/or one shot dedicated to them…what's that? You want _more_ incentive? Sheesh.

**Warnings:** Spoilers for Cast in Shadow

Relevant pages in Cast in Shadow are (in mass market paperback) pp. 74-110

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"_So. You are the child."_

-Lord Nightshade on Kaylin; the first time they meet

She was small. Smaller than he had expected, at least. He noticed her hands first, twitching towards the daggers at her side. It was almost amusing to see such defiance in one of his own. But then, she had been gone awhile.

Thick brown hair pinned back into a messy bun, with stray locks falling into her similarly colored eyes. Eyes that stared at him unabashed, taking his measure. Weighing the odds. He felt an inexplicable urge to smile. But he knew what must happen, and it was nothing to smile about. She was, or would become, a dangerous weapon. He could not allow her to become one that could be used against him.

She needed to be bound; he would bind her. It would be his hand, in the end, that wielded the weapon.

The magic he used to mark her was an ancient one, and not one used very often; it was therefore more challenging than it should have been. But it was done in the end and that was what mattered.

That was all that ever mattered.

She did not understand, true, but Tiamaris knew. Knew, and was furious. Severn also had some small inkling of the truth, and was wary. His guards were simply shocked. If none among their diverse group had guessed what she was, what bringing her to meet him would trigger, he was alone in his suspicions for the moment.

He hid a satisfied smile and bid them follow as they made their way back to the castle. They came, neither silently nor willingly, but they came. She herself could not have stayed away. He heard her whispering to Severn, seeking comfort, and it gave him pause.

He had been under the impression that their relationship was fragmented. Could they have repaired it so quickly? Or was she merely reaching out to the familiarity of a man she had known for almost her entire life?

It did not matter, much, in the end.

--

The portal disconcerted her. It was slightly disappointing to see her so offset by a mere twist of space and location, but he admitted to himself that she could not be perfect. Her flaws, even the smallest ones like this, gave him room to change the direction in which she grew.

So he took her into the heart of his castle. It was far easier to study her without the added presence of her companions, to gauge her reaction to himself.

It should not have been a problem, taking her to the seal of the Old Ones. Or at least, it should not have posed a problem he was unprepared or unable to contain. It did. She now held his name, and he had received nothing in return.

He was beginning to sense a trend, with this girl. She knew not the limitations of her own power. He had underestimated her, and he had paid the price. It would not happen again.

Then, of course, she refused to allow him to assist her afterwards. With the blood. He gave her freedom in this matter—it was better that she learn in an instance where he was present to protect her from the consequences of her naivety.

They tried to claim her, to draw her in as one of them as he knew they would. They saw the marks that twisted around her bare arms and shoulders. They knew, and they desired. They would have taken, as well, had he not denied them the right.

He could not lose her so soon, before her power had even reached its limits. If it was indeed a power that _had_ limits.

--

He could hear the angry voices and whisper of blades being drawn from their sheaths before they set foot into the hallway. This was displeasing, but not unexpected. Severn would choose to fight rather than remain in the dark, and Tiamaris would follow.

He was not eager to see their blood stain the walls of his castle, not yet, when it could serve no valid purpose.

She heard them, then, and panicked. He watched with some curiosity as to how she would react, and was not disappointed. She quickly freed herself from the trappings of her heeled shoes and sprinted down the corridor. He noticed that when she ran, she did not run away from him, but rather toward Severn.

There was a distinction, and he was irked by it. She would learn, and quickly too if he was any judge of character. And he was. He followed her slowly into the room in time to see her put herself in the path of Severn's weapons and give him pause.

Severn's eyes were dark and angry as he stared past Kaylin. There was something in the lines around his eyes and mouth that spoke of frustration, as well. Then his gaze locked onto Nightshade and the warning was clear: stay away from Kaylin. The demand was so obviously futile Lord Nightshade chose to ignore it, and turn away instead.

Yes. She would learn where to lay that misplaced deference and how to better apply her remarkable perception. He left them there, in the halls. Let them find their own way out.

--

Requests for the next event? I have some in mind, but suggestions are welcome.


	2. Burning

**Chapter Title:** Burning

**Summary:** She understands nothing of power, least of all her own. And therein lies her greatest weakness—or, perhaps, her greatest strength.

**Notes:** Yes, I was procrastinating. But I'm here now, aren't I? Not quite as good as the last, because it wasn't something that actually _happened._ But I'm finished with the Shadow events now, then next one will come from Courtlight (which is probably my favorite, if I had to choose one)

**Warnings:** Spoilers for Cast in Shadow

Relevant pages in Cast in Shadow (mass market paperback) are 469-483

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"_It is not over. Between us. Between the Old Ones. You are here, and you live, and you have used their power."_

-Lord Nightshade to Kaylin, after the battle with the outcaste Dragon

She was full of surprises. This girl, Private Kaylin Neya, astonished him with what was beginning to become a frightening regularity. In dealing with her, he was no longer in possession of all the answers. And that in itself was enough to treat her with caution.

And keep her close. He would need to be more watchful—of her, and of her companions. He couldn't fail now, not when he had just begun. Not, he knew, as the Dragon had.

He had long suspected they had not heard the last from Makuron the Black. But even he had not expected a catastrophe quite of this scale. And yet, disaster had been averted. Because of her.

She had fought the dragon with every fiber of her being, and some of his as well. She had used him as her anchor throughout the battle, and he knew how she had struggled. Had known it when she lost, and the magic took over.

Then he had felt the change in her. There was power, almost limitless power, in her at that time. The dragon had known it. Severn and the children had _seen_ it, or a manifestation of it. He himself had felt it in his bones.

She understands nothing of power, least of all her own. And therein lies her greatest weakness—or, perhaps, her greatest strength. Human power is limited by what they believe is possible. In her, because there is no sense of what _cannot_ be done with her magic, there is a greater range for what _can._

She was in possession of a power that could either save them all, or destroy everything. It all depended on her. And, obliquely, on people like himself as well.

He wasn't much given to illusion; he knew exactly how much power he had over her. Knew, also, that it was not enough. Others, too, had their influences on her—Severn, Tiamaris, the Hawklord, and even her Sergeant.

In time, her trust in him would increase. He had no doubt that he could convince her to come to him eventually. Barrani lives were long; he could wait. He could wait forever, if it became necessary, but he would prefer not to. Though he knew how to wait, he was not a patient person by nature. So it was a good thing she lived quickly, driven by her desire to _know_. Though it was not ideal, he would accept a bond built around curiosity.

She had asked him about the sword. The named sword. _Meliannos._ Tiamaris had been wary; Makuron had been shocked. But it had been her hand in the end, that was his downfall. Lord Nightshade did not make the same foolish assumption she did—he was not gone, merely defeated; he would go back, now, to lick his wounds in a safe place until the time came for another attack.

Perhaps she would be better prepared at that time. But knowing her, it was unlikely. He would just have to be prepared for her. That, he could do. And what he could do, he would do to prepare her for anything that should come. Like the Court. They would want to see her at the High Court, eventually. And then perhaps even the palace of the Emperor. The possibilities were endless--and so were the ways in which they could turn in on themselves and go wrong.

She would kill herself, inadvertently, without guidance. It was his job to see to it that such an event never came to pass. Not while they both lived. Not unless he was the one wielding the sword.

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	3. Midwife

**Chapter Title: **Midwife

**Summary:** She is more valuable than she knows, more powerful than he had guessed, and sharper than they give her credit for. He will not underestimate her again.

**Spoilers:** Cast in Courtlight—it would be most helpful if that were read prior to this chapter.

**Notes:** To hopefully avoid too much confusion: Kaylin is 'her', Nightshade will refer to himself as 'himself', but the story is told from 3rd person so 'he' without reference to another character is also Nightshade. But any 'him' you see probably refers to a different character altogether. Sorry.

Relevant pages in Cast in Courtlight: 108-111, 288-297, 435-438

* * *

If he had not been foolish enough to expect she would be able to avoid the High Court forever, he had also not been prepared for her to be taken so quickly. And by Lord Anteela, of all people, who had argued most vehemently for Kaylin's survival not seven years ago.

When the girl was focused enough, he could feel her, and the shape of her name in his mind took on more defined edges. She had been focused then; of course, he would not have called the waking of the Lord of the West March a task that required anything less than full commitment. The why was in his mind taking on a form that was almost tangible; it was the _how_ that concerned him.

Where the Barrani healers had failed, she would attempt to triumph. To the eyes of an outsider, it was foolishness. And it was upon this perception that Anteela depended; it was a calculated risk.

Kaylin Neya. She was the sum of the two words, contained and yet not bound by them. And she had woken the son of the castelord by offering him her sense of duty, and respect. She offered him the hawk; he accepted and he was made whole.

And if this was beneficial for _him_ it was troublesome for her, and consequently a difficulty for himself as well. It was good, upon reflection, that the Lord of the West March had not harmed her. Because then Nightshade knew he would have had to kill him. War, indeed.

Now that the Court had gotten a taste of her power, they would demand her back. It would be done as they desired. And if she emerged relatively unscathed, he would continue to watch her. If not…

His smile was all teeth and no humor. There was a reason he was the only surviving outcaste Barrani Lord.

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Only Kaylin, he was sure, could go into the High Halls a Hawk of the lowest rank (a technicality, he knew, since promoting her would draw unwanted attention, but with meaning nonetheless) and emerge a Lord of the High Court.

And it was, again, the way she went about it that disturbed him. She had found the Source—something little more than a rumor—and offered the alter her blood. Blood of the living, the breathing, and the nameless. Sometimes he curses her instincts, sometimes they save her life. He wonders if they aren't perhaps a direct result of the markings on her skin.

The magic has so entangled itself with her that he cannot tell where it ends, and the human Kaylin begins. To walk so defiantly into the Halls where countless Barrani have lost themselves, and offer blood to the heart of the Court.

And then she had named herself.

He would have called it impossible. He would not have shown her the path, as Andellen had, but rather allowed her to find her own. _Choice_. The symbol inscribed had been intended to guide her way; he feared she had taken it far too literally. Mortals were not meant to choose Barrani names.

Which begged the question: What was Kaylin, if not mortal?

A question for another time. At the moment, she was still hunting behind the walls of the High Court. What she was hunting, he was not certain. But he hoped it would not find her first. Unfortunately, whereas Kaylin and hope seemed to be constant companions, they were not all compatible.

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Andellen called her worthy. High praise, from this man who had argued against her in the beginning. But if Kaylin was at times without tact, her character was such that it was difficult to take offense, and even more so to hold a grudge. Andellen would stand by her, now.

This showed promise. It was an attribute of the strong to forge alliances in all places. And she _was_ strong. In mind as well as, inasmuch as could be expected of a mortal at her age, in body. She was showing herself to be not quite the pliable tool he would have expected, before their first meeting.

He was not convinced he preferred her this way, but he was in all things a realist. What she was could not be undone. It could be added to, but attempting to unmake her would be futile and costly.

He was not sure it would not cost him his life.

But in the end, he was satisfied. She was impressive. She is more valuable than she knows, more powerful than he had guessed, and sharper than they give her credit for. He will not underestimate her again. And she will be his.

--

Oooh. Ominous. But I think he truly believes it. So, I'm curious: who are we more fond of, Nightshade, or Severn? Leave your pick in a review, and if you'd like, give a rationale.

Thank you to all the reviewers who left such nice comments :) It gives me a warm glowy feeling inside. Next up, Cast in Secret. Feel free to suggest scenes (I have a particular one in mind...;)


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